Vessel of the Gods Boxed Set

by Jada Fisher

  Ukrah held still, unsure of what he was thinking or feeling. She could be patient, if that was what he needed.

  She couldn’t say how many moments passed before he tilted his head, looking up at her with so much written on his face. “You can’t think that way, okay?” She opened her mouth to respond, but he kept on going. “Ukrah, you’re just as important as the rest of us. Maybe more important because of that vessel thingumajig you got going on.

  “But that’s really sidetracking what I mean. What I’m saying is, I understand you have this strange thing inside of you that probably makes all of us around you seem small, weak, and in need of protection, but I’m going to need you to not listen to it all the time. Okay? Let me fight. I promise if things are too far beyond my means, I’ll hide as much as you want.”

  He didn’t understand. He hadn’t seen himself when she had saved him from those kidnappers. All beaten, bloody, and swollen. He hadn’t seen himself during his long healing period, where colors painted across his face and the whites of his eyes were stained with blood for far too long. He didn’t get that she had lost everything that she ever had, and he was the only one who knew her from before she met the god-woman. He didn’t understand how he was the only true friend she had. He’d been with her during her ill-fated time at the academy. He’d risked his life multiple times for her even though he was almost assuredly going to lose.

  Someone like him was invaluable. Vital to her survival.

  But with the way he was looking at her, all concerned and caring and wishing so hard for her to agree, she found the argument too much for her.

  “Yeah,” she agreed weakly. “I’ll try to be better.”

  He breathed such a heady sigh of relief. She wanted to tell him that he was getting far too wrapped up in what she thought of him, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The fact of the matter was that Crispin was more important than he could ever know, and she was probably going to continue to treat him as such.

  “Good, that’s all I can ask.”

  They went quiet after that, and she was glad for the reprieve. She was almost back to that floaty, contented place when Cassinda approached her.

  “What was with your magic?” she asked, setting some roasted potatoes next to them on a cloth.

  Ukrah grimaced. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  “I… I’m not certain. I just know it wouldn’t answer to me.”

  “Any reason why that you can think of?” It seemed like Cassinda was back to the usual terse, intense way of holding herself from back when she had first met them.

  “I don’t—”

  “I think it’s probably Voirdr,” Crispin said, not even looking up as he palpated the aching spot on her ribs. The two of them looked to him in surprise.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Well, black and white dragons all can absorb and direct the energy of all the other dragons, right? Well, this little guy is young and probably can’t really control or call upon that yet purposefully, so instead we’ve got a…a…leaky sort of interference with what you do.”

  “If that’s true, why did it only effect Ukrah and not me?” Cassinda asked.

  “Probably because she’s his rider and he’s closer to her than anybody else. I’m sure if I had magic, I’d feel something too.”

  Ukrah looked down to her little guy, who was sleeping over both of her feet, his side pressed into Crispin’s knees. Her heart squeezed with affection for him even with the revelation that he had maybe kinda almost inadvertently gotten her killed.

  “Huh. Is there a way we can test that out?”

  “Perhaps later,” Cassinda said, her lips turned in a frown. Thankfully, Ukrah knew her just well enough to be aware that the expression was her ‘thinking face’ rather than a sign of actual displeasure. “Once we return home with these other vessels you say are out there.”

  “If we make it home,” Athar grumbled. “T-t-those bandits were definitely sent by one of the riders at the last city we were in. Which means at minimum one of our allies isn’t an ally at all.” He heaved a breath. “Have you had any more of an inkling of which direction we should be heading in?”

  Ukrah shook her head. “I haven’t gotten any more of a premonition or dream.”

  Have you even tried? Or have you been caught up in the grand adventure of all of this? Tayir accused.

  “Well, it might help if you did,” Athar said. There wasn’t any malice to his voice, but a sort of weariness that she wasn’t used to hearing from him. “I feel like I’ve gotten soft. There was a time where a fight like this wouldn’t even be worth remembering.”

  “That’s a good thing then, right?” Crispin asked. “Being safe enough to get soft?”

  Athar grinned wanly. “It’s nice, but I don’t think it’s something any of us can afford right now.”

  When Ukrah went to bed that night, she told herself that she had to dream, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. With Crispin’s words fresh in her mind, she convinced Voirdr to cuddle with him instead of curling along her side, but she missed his weight as she tried to slip under.

  It didn’t help that dawn was just starting to lighten the horizon, the sky transitioning from its unending obsidian into the slightest shades of purple and cobalt. They’d flown a good two hours west of where their camp had been and had found a small rock formation with an outcropping that was just large enough to mostly shelter them from any bandits flying above for a rematch.

  At first, Ukrah had been so sure that she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but then Fior had curled around their tent, his tail over her and his head under the hide flap to press against Cassinda, and that, combined with the steady breath of her companions, helped her fall under.

  And just like she had needed, she dreamed.

  She was flying, fire stretching below her as far as the eye could see. It was chaos and destruction and everything awful all at once, an echo of everything that had been plaguing her in the year since she had arrived in the Rothaiche M’or. But instead of mounting in a crescendo, instead of swallowing her as it usually did, everything began to race backward. As if time itself was flowing in reverse.

  The flames dwindled down, receding into the earth. The very ground repaired itself, coming together in rippling waves that reminded her of the ocean.

  She still sat across Voirdr’s fully-grown back, watching as plants burst into life, rising from ash and covering everything in green. And then, just when the world was right again, a golden line shimmered into being.

  Ukrah leaned forward, following its line with her eyes. It stretched farther than she could see, leading her to…to what?

  Exactly what she needed.

  Who she needed?

  She didn’t know, so she squeezed her knees. Voirdr dipped down, his massive wings tucking in as they fell into a deep dive.

  Her stomach jumped in elation as they picked up speed. In all her dreams, it was the first that they ever flew without duress, only a goal—a bright, shimmering light—to guide them.

  They were only touching the ground when she touched it, wrapping her fingers around the ray of light. There was a snap, and suddenly it was as if the string wound around her, squeezing so tightly that she couldn’t even breathe.

  She didn’t even have time to panic before it sank into her, the tension releasing. But as she drew in another breath, she could feel the string lancing out of her, tugging her in the direction she needed to go.

  Perfect.

  4

  The Path Laid Bare

  They woke sometime just before midday, and Ukrah told the others what she had learned. Athar didn’t seem surprised when she spoke to him of the string, as if he had already gone through something pretty similar, and just let her lead the way.

  It was similar to how she found Crispin, and yet not. With Crispin, she just knew. With this, it was like someone was calling out to her, beckoning her to find them, to save them. To gather them u
nder her arms and protect.

  Goodness, she was getting tired of that word. It seemed to fill her mind and mean far too much. Like she would fall to pieces if she didn’t find everything and everyone she was supposed to and ship them off somewhere they would be safe. Sure, she’d always cared about her friends, about her allies, but it seemed with every day that passed, her driving need to protect was ramping up more and more. She didn’t even want to think of what it could be like if it got worse, and yet that was the boat she was in.

  Nevertheless, she followed the string dutifully. It was strange to think that a fully-grown dragon could fly from Rothaiche M’or to Margaid in one full day or night, but the haphazard, southwestern path they had taken was going on double that. To her, it seemed that the supposedly civilized lands had clustered themselves too close to each other, all lingering on the north and southeastern parts of the land, leaving far too much open and wild for ne’er-do-wells.

  In the borderlands, the wilds, everyone was spread out, with many of the tribes or people being nomadic in nature. They rarely crossed one another, and when they did, it was purposeful. There were few wars, most of the people caught up in just surviving. And even after the cleansing, when the Blight and all those terrible monsters had disappeared, the various civilizations were all adjusting to a new way of life.

  Which was exactly how her own tribe had gotten so wrapped up in witch hunting.

  That thought put Ukrah in a place that she didn’t want to give any more energy to, and she tucked it away. The past didn’t matter at the moment. Her awakening wasn’t the focus of attention. The only thing that mattered was finding whatever vessel she was locked onto and bringing them to safety.

  They flew for hours, and after the first few, she began to wonder if she was full of it. Even with Crispin, she could feel that they were getting near, feel the sundial above her head progressing mercilessly. But with this, it was just a golden line. No feeling. No connection. Just…a direction.

  To everyone else’s credit, they didn’t voice their doubt, just dutifully followed along, Crispin holding Voirdr behind her and occasionally reminding her to drink from their waterskin.

  But then, as the sun was just beginning to set, she saw it. The golden string leading to a bright, shimmering spot. She let out a cry despite herself, and they approached the target until a small but homey-looking village appeared.

  “You sure?” Athar asked, looking down uncertainly.

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation. Finally, she could feel it in her bones. Her fellow vessel was down there, just waiting to be found.

  “It f-figures,” Athar said with a sigh, taking a long, long drink from his own waterskin.

  “Why?” Crispin asked as Fior began to set down. “You know this place?”

  “I know of it from Ain. The purple, white, and red roofs on opposite sides are pretty dead giveaways. Th-this village is at the merge point.”

  “Merge point?”

  He nodded. “This is where Baeldred, Margaid, and Rothaiche M’or all touch. After the wars, there was a treaty that towns like th-these wouldn’t belong to any one kingdom, and rather work as their own, small self-government. This particular one is flying the colors that belong to a pretty large…” He grimaced. “…guild, we’ll call them.”

  “By that, you mean brigands,” Cassinda said sharply. “Like the ones that attacked my village.”

  He nodded tersely. “We’ll have to be careful. We’ll set down just outside of town and announce ourselves. Hopefully, th-these folks won’t be against rolling out the welcome wagon.”

  “Do you have bad blood here?” Ukrah asked as they landed.

  “No, actually. I haven’t heard any reports about particularly troublesome merge villages in this area. Granted, who knows considering we were just attacked after leaving one of our outpost cities. B-b-b-but if I had to guess, I would say this is probably just a fencing town.”

  “Fencing?” she muttered with confusion. “I don’t see any kind of barrier.”

  A chuckle from Crispin sounded behind her, his forehead pressing against the back her shoulder. “Fencing means buying stolen goods and making them eligible to sell legally in shops and stores or with traveling merchants.”

  “Oh.” That plucked at something familiar in her head. “So this entire village is sort of a…black market in your language?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing.”

  “Except I don’t think they’re doing much selling here,” Athar continued. “This is likely where they just collect and distribute, if I had t-to guess.”

  And you’re just going right into it. Better get a better handle on your power, girl. I’d hate to lose you after we’ve gotten this far.

  Ukrah could feel Crispin roll his eyes at the bird’s words behind her, but she said nothing. Cassinda tilted her head slightly, as if she could hear him too, but the curious look on her face quickly faded as they slid to the ground and walked the path to the village.

  It was too small to have a gate or anything official, but as they walked past the first couple of shacks, a pleasant-looking man stepped out from one of them and casually approached the group.

  “Greeting there, strangers. We don’t get a lot of visitors here. Y’all got business with our little merge point?”

  “Actually, we were just passing th-through,” Athar said coolly. “We got attacked while we were on the road and were hoping for a nice place to rest and recoup. You get attacked much h-here? H-h-hassled?”

  The man shook his head. “I’m real sorry to hear that.” But then his expression morphed into a pleasant enough smile. “But I’m glad you found us. We’ve got a nice tavern for travelers such as yourself, and you can definitely rest up! I’ll walk you there, if you need. Even got a stable your dragons can hang in.” He gave Ethella a bit of a look. “Well…your guy there might be a bit big for it.”

  “She’s a lady, actually,” Crispin corrected. “But you’d be surprised how much she likes to curl up.”

  “Is that so? Well, food for her might cost a pretty penny, but we should have enough stored up.”

  Athar nodded. “You’re not low on provisions here?”

  “Nah, we have enough traders, and ever since the cleansing, we’ve had plenty of wildlife come back, so hunting’s good. Not to mention that we don’t have to worry about those monsters coming in and killing our livestock anymore.”

  “Yeah, that will certainly do it.”

  “Thoughtful of you to ask, though. Most wouldn’t think about what kinda food supply we had around here.”

  Athar just shrugged, letting the compliment pass over them as they strode toward the tavern. When they reached it, it was quite a bit smaller than Braddock’s, but homey enough. The man opened the door for them, then gave them a bit of a bow before walking off again.

  Ukrah wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a warm sort of room with two sections, one wide open with tables every so often and people enjoying food while another seemed to be a sort of…game area? She could see cards and dice, and people laughing as well as huffing in anger.

  “What is that?” she asked, pointing blatantly.

  “Gambling,” Athar said, his tone tight. “We won’t be going over th-there.”

  “Aw, why?” Crispin said with a bit of a whine. “Nothing like a good ol’ game of dragon claw to get the blood pumping.”

  “There’s a problem when I can’t stop p-playing it,” Athar said. “Come on now, let’s get some food and a room.”

  He walked over to the bar, where a few patrons were nursing tankards. Ukrah noticed how some of the men leaned away from the giant, their eyebrows going up. It was weirdly gratifying in a way, but she didn’t exactly have a reason as to why.

  “You lot look like you’ve seen some better days,” the tavern-keep said with a bit of a laugh as Athar rested his large elbows on the counter. “Did something happen to your lady?”

  “My lady?”


  He gestured to the three of them behind him. “I’ve never seen a dragon rider out with a haggle of runts without his old lady. She alright?”

  Athar let out a dry huff. “Yeah, she’s just with child. Couldn’t quite make the journey.”

  “Pregnant, huh? That’s a bit of a gap you have there.”

  “We’re not his,” Crispin said, hopping onto the stool next to Athar. “We’d all be a lot taller and—” He glanced to Athar’s long, long dark ponytail, his square jaw, and thick, hair along his muscled limbs. “—different looking.”

  “War orphans?”

  “Something like that,” Cassinda said, sitting on the other stool more gracefully. “You see many of us out here?”

  “Heck, half of our town have been war orphans. You’re in good company.”

  Ukrah was surprised at how friendly everyone was being. After learning that it was some sort of black market-like town, she had assumed everyone would be guarded and shady. Maybe she didn’t quite understand this whole fencing business after all.

  “Good to know. You g-g-g— Have any rooms here?”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty far out of the travel season, so I’ve got a large room up there with three beds. Or I can get ya two of our smaller ones, but they’ve only got one cot each.”

  “The large room will be fine. We prefer to stick together in new towns.”

  “Well, that works out with me.” The innkeeper explained the price, but as Athar reached into his purse, the man tsked his tongue. “Looks like you’ve got a pretty bad rip in your breeches there. You guys really did have a rough time getting here, did you?”

  “Wasn’t exactly easy.”

  “Well, I’d offer you a spare, or I’m sure a townfolk would sell ya something, but you’re not exactly a typical size around here.”

  “That’s not the first time I’ve h-heard something like that.”

  The man laughed. “I’m sure of that. Ya know, it’s a bit late now, but we actually have a real good tailor in town. She’s just about magic with the needle and thread. I betcha if ya went to her, she could have your things right as rain before ya gotta get back on the road.”